


Right Hand Man

by Einarsdatter



Category: Loki - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Implied Tomki, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Einarsdatter/pseuds/Einarsdatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Making a music video is more complicated when there's a prankster on the set.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Hand Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a challenge from just-the-fics-maam on tumblr.

"Who's the blue guy?"

"Dunno. Didn't you and Tom go over everything yesterday?"

"We did. But I didn't hear him say anything about a blue guy."

"Well, don't make a fuss about it now. He's been dead useful, and he matches the decor. Plus, he's cute and super fit. I'm definitely going to have him after we wrap. Before he takes off the costume, if I can manage it."

"Not if I get to him first." I smirked at Aaron, flicking my cigarette onto the pavement and making eye contact with Mr Blue Mystery for the first time. It was more like an eye fuck, actually, and it was deliciously mutual. But when I saw him move toward our smokers' hideout I ducked back inside to make sure everything was ready to go. There would be plenty of time to continue this little game during filming, and no way to fulfill its promise until we were done for the day. Which made it the perfect sort of distraction to take my mind off the tedium of multiple takes and the heat of the lights and the balancing act of giving concert-level energy on every take while making sure there was still something left for the next one.

I found Tom talking to the camera guys about the first shot he wanted to get, so I waited a full fifteen seconds before interrupting and pulling him aside. "Who's the blue guy?"

His eyes went through a fascinating set of rapid changes. Wide with panic, then narrow with suspicion, they took on a carefully neutral expression before he answered. "My roommate, Kris Logan. Adds visual interest, don't you think?"

"You didn't have a roommate when I visited you yesterday."

"He arrived late last night. I figured he might as well help us out here, rather than rattle around an empty flat all day. You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind? No, far from it. Aaron tells me he's been a big help, and he does, as you say, add visual interest."

Tom's eyes did that little dance again. "Have you spoken to him?"

"Not yet. Why?"

"Because I'd like to be able to introduce you properly, but we've got to get started right now." He raised his voice to address the room. "All right, places, everybody." He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "At the break, okay?"

I nodded, and turned to find Blue Kris Logan's eyes locked on me. Feeling the heat rising in my cheeks, I fought the urge to look down and verify that I was fully clothed. Instead I looked him up and down, undressing him with my eyes, a job that was only half as strenuous as it might have been. His Krishna costume covered him from waist to ankles, but his chest and arms were bare, except for the traditional garland of tulasi leaves, the gold chains around his neck, and the gold bands on his arms. That left plenty of blue to fuel the imagination, and I spent the next several minutes conjuring blue legs in my mind, long, lean, but powerfully muscled like the rest of him.

The band started playing, and my hips were immediately in motion, keeping time with the four-plus-three rhythm of the song. I loved the irregular beat, loved the way it pushed the music forward. I made sure that Krishna Logan knew how much I loved it, reveling in the fact that he was standing right next to the primary camera, which made it possible to look right at him and do my job at the same time. Swiveling and snapping my hips, I grasped the shaft of the microphone stand and completed my mental image of the slim blue hips underneath his dhoti, the proud cock waiting for my worshipful attention, the perfectly rounded grab-worthy ass just waiting to be squeezed and kneaded.

By the time Tom called for a break, which included a costume change for me, my brain had mapped every bit of blue, sucked his cock into complete submission, and had him inside me a dozen different ways. And he knew all about it. It was there in his eyes as I approached the camera, where Tom was waiting to make what was by now an utterly pointless formal introduction. After all, I already knew his name.

I walked up to Tom and gave him a big hug. "I'm gonna get changed, so we can get back to work." With an arm around Tom's waist, I reached out to Kris and shook his hand, "Mr Logan, I'm glad you could spend the day with us. I hope you're planning on joining us for dinner after the shoot." Then, before either of them could respond, I wove my way through the groups of people huddled together and chatting to the back of the unfurnished house we had rented for the day. 

The master bedroom was my dressing room, a cool, dark oasis, a refuge from the heat and noise of the set. I locked the door and kicked off my shoes, stripped off the long skirt I'd worn all morning, and pulled my t-shirt up over my head, letting it fall inside out onto the floor. Next to go were the damnable brown tights with the cotton crotch that had not been designed to withstand the consequences of several hours of lusty blue fantasies. Once free of those, and my bra, I stretched out on the couch and hooked one leg up over the back, determined to finish, and win, Round One of my little head game before going back out there for Round Two. Wishing I'd brought a vibrator (but really, who could have known I'd need one?), I closed my eyes and gave in to the desire and longing that had been building ever since I first saw him. It washed over me, and for a minute I thought I might not even have to touch myself. I let out a long, low groan, imagining his weight on me, his magnificent cock entering me smoothly, stretching and filling me, his hands all over me, his mouth on mine, his lustrous long black hair between my fingers.

It felt so real, the pleasure. I could hear his little grunts of exertion, his moans when I tugged on his hair or bit his neck. I felt his hands pinching my nipples, massaging my clit, lifting my bum up and into his every thrust, increasing in speed as he neared his climax. I wanted him to come inside me, it was the last thing I begged of him before I lost consciousness, my mind finally overwhelmed by the orgasm that rocked me when he whispered how he planned to punish me later for taunting him all morning.

I couldn't have been out very long; nobody came banging on the door and calling my name. I woke clear-headed, alone, and in desperate need of a shower. When I stood up, I could feel his come leaking down my inner thighs. Ignoring, for the moment, the fact that this was not physically possible, I stepped into the jet of hot water, letting it wash everything away, leaving me fresh and ready to start again. But the water couldn’t rinse off the way I still wanted him, the intensity of my desire undiminished by whatever the hell had just happened. I hurriedly got into my second costume, a short dress, perfect for a quick fuck against a wall, especially when worn without panties. What can I say? Apparently the prankster of the Hindu pantheon had the power to turn me into an insatiable mewling quim.

Craft services was busy serving lunch. Pleased to see that I hadn’t missed it entirely, I filled a plate and caught up to Aaron, who was eating standing up, looking wrecked but happy. “You’ve been enjoying your lunch break.”

“Honey, you have no idea. Boy turned me out.”

“What boy? Aaron, you’ve been holding out on me.”

“Blue boy, silly woman. Jesus, that cock is to die for. Think I almost did die; I definitely blacked out for a minute.”

Confusion. A pang of irrational jealousy. Clearly my fantasy had been just that, despite certain evidence to the contrary. No human being, no one single penis, no matter how gorgeous, can be in two places at one time. Right? There are still laws governing the behavior of matter in the universe. I gave Aaron a kiss of congratulations and wandered over to where Tom stood, looking more smug than should be possible just halfway through a shoot. “What are you so pleased about?”

He turned to me with a blissed-out smile. “Just a lovely lunch break, that’s all. You look radiant, my dear. Ready to get back to work?”

“I will be in a minute, but I have a question for you first. Is this an I’ve-just-been-well-and-truly-fucked glow I’m seeing, by any chance, and was a certain Mr Logan involved?”

Tom really is pretty when he blushes. “Perhaps. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I’ve just come from a conversation with Aaron, who says he has your new roommate to thank for the fact that he won’t be able to walk straight for the foreseeable future.” I didn’t want to divulge my own experience; things were already weird enough.

Tom’s face clouded over, and he drew a deep breath before bellowing, “Lo . . . . . gan, could I have a word, please?”

"Who is he, Tom? What is he?”

The eye dance. “What can you possibly mean by such a question?”

“He’s blue. And I don’t think it’s makeup. You and Aaron were apparently both with him at the same time, and as I scan the crowd out here I suspect it wasn’t just the two of you. I myself had a, well, let’s call it a ‘strange’ experience in my dressing room just now. Something’s up with this guy, and you know what it is. Tell me!”

“I told him it wouldn’t work. I tried to make him stay at home, but he had this hare-brained idea that he could come along as Krishna and be like a living prop. He had seen the decorations Sally chose for the set; he knew it would work artistically, and he promised to make himself useful, to stay quietly in the background. But he can’t help it. I honestly don't think he even has any control over it."

"Sorry? What did I miss? Who doesn't have any control over what?" Kris “Krishna” Logan appeared out of nowhere, and I realized I was hearing him speak for the first time. Which was either the best thing that ever happened or an unmitigated disaster, depending upon your point of view. On the one hand, his voice was possibly the most beautiful sound I had heard in my life, but I also knew I'd never be able to refuse him anything. Ever. He knew it, too, the little shit. Not that it would have been hard to tell; I'm sure my eyes were rolling back in my head.

Tom, however, was too exasperated to notice my little crisis. "You, Loki. You don't have any control, over yourself, over the effect you have on people, . . . . "

Now it was my turn to flip out. "What did you call him? How many names does one guy get to have?"

His arms snaked round my waist, and he spoke directly into my ear. "I have more names than you could recite if you stood here all day and night, my love." I relaxed in his embrace, knowing I was falling under his spell. Again. "I am Loki, Krishna, Vishnu, Mohan, Lord of All Senses, The One Who Plays. Thomas is one of my most beloved and devoted companions, and so shall you be, my darling one, if you wish."

"And will you love me like you did in my dressing room before?"

"I will be the lover of your body and your soul, and the music we make will set the world on fire.”

I caught Tom’s eye. The irritation of a moment ago was gone, and in its place was naked lust. We were teetering on the knife-edge of a public threesome that would quickly become an orgy. I turned to face our divine lover - wondering idly what I would end up calling him with so many names to choose from - and made a last-ditch effort to restore a measure of sanity to the conversation. “I want you to have me against the wall of my dressing room after we wrap this shoot. Tom can watch; hell, he can join in if he wants. But we’re going to let the rest of these people just do their jobs and go home, yeah?”

“If that is your desire.”

“It is. And then we can go to dinner, after which I think you promised to punish me for something. And then . . . you can tell me more about this music we’re going to make. Flute player, right?”

He nodded solemnly, his eyes scorching my skin.

“Tom, are you down with this plan?”

I saw the light of reason return to Tom’s eyes. He licked his lips and whispered, “Yes.”

“Okay, let’s finish this damned shoot before I lose my mind. I need you boys to fuck me into next week, and the sooner we get started the sooner that can happen. For all of us.”

Tom shouted loudly enough for all to hear, “All right, break’s over. Places, everyone!”


End file.
